


damp

by nats_zoo



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Making Out, Other, Practice Kissing, Suggestive Themes, Third Year Yamaguchi Tadashi, gender neutral reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:41:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27827680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nats_zoo/pseuds/nats_zoo
Summary: "practice kissing." what a joke.
Relationships: Yamaguchi Tadashi/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 74





	damp

**Author's Note:**

> this dumb practice-kissing joke literally will not get out of my head i am so sorry   
> i hope this is?? good??   
> ALSO i kknow i havent been responding to comments lately but i do read every single one of them and all of them mean a lot to me!! thannk you all so much for the support <3<3

this was stupid. this was a stupid fucking idea, and you know it—you’ve known it from the start of this stupid sleepover but you couldn’t bring yourself to admit it. 

you  _ still _ can’t bring yourself to admit it. not when there’s music gently playing in the background and you’re sitting comfortably on your best friend’s bed and pressing your lips against your best friend’s lips under the pretense of “practice kissing.” if you were sober (which you are  _ not, _ instead slightly drunk on the sweet radler beers you stole from your parents before coming over), you might have half a mind to pull away and stop whatever the hell you’re doing. but you’re not, and you don’t. 

you’re not sure how it really started. the night was going well—yamaguchi’s bed covered in a mix of snack bowls and bottled tea (unsweetened for you, sweetened for him), your playlist starting up on his speaker and his air conditioner keeping the room at a comfortable coolness. it gets fuzzy when you start opening up cans of beer and chugging them like stupid teens (because that’s what you are, stupid,  _ stupid _ teens). you don’t know when in the night you started staring at him, when in the night you put your hands on his shoulders, when in the night you asked him if you could kiss him. 

“like, for practice,” you remember forcing out, mouth dry and throat tacky with the syrupy leftovers of the radler. “just so we know what to do when we start dating people.” 

hands placed themselves on your shoulders and yamaguchi gave you a shaky nod and you don’t know the details of what happened next, but what you know  _ now _ is that you’re currently kissing your best fucking friend with such force that he’s about to fall backward on the bed—and you’re not sure you want to stop it. 

you pull back just as he lands on the mattress, head resting on his pillows and legs sprawled out as you crawl to hover over his waist (precisely, delicately, hesitantly), and lean over to just  _ barely _ meet his lips. 

“can i keep going?” it’s a whisper, warm against his cold lips and as his eyes flutter closed you see them roll back—you feel high. you feel drunk and high and dizzy and you still cannot believe that this is your best friend, who is letting you make out with him in his bed on a friday night. 

your lips meet his, tongue swiping against his bottom lip until they part. you lick into his mouth and there’s a sound, a fucking  _ sound _ creeping up from his throat as his lips moisten and his tongue dances with yours. it’s all grotesque in detail, but in the moment you can’t find it in you to care. you trace his teeth slowly with your tongue, the pace a great contrast from the rushed and frantic one you took before. 

his hands are gripping the sides of your head, gently, not gripping your hair to hurt you or pulling your skin to shock you. it’s just yamaguchi’s hands, tan and freckled and cold pressed against the sides of your face to ground you into a reality that you can’t believe you’re living in. 

with great reluctance, you pull back. your fingers trace his hairline, damp yet cold, and he leans into your touch.

“yamaguchi.” you whisper against his lips again. (you know you’re doing it just to see his pretty eyes roll back the slightest bit, just like they did before, but he doesn’t relent, unfortunately). his eyes, all glittering gold and long lashes, blink up at you, flitting between your eyes and your lips. 

“tadashi,” he tells you. “please call me tadashi.” 

you make sure you do.


End file.
